More Glimpses
by Linstock
Summary: A collection drabbles written using Spock/Uhura prompt table two.
1. Chapter 1

Title: More Glimpses

Author: Linstock

Code: Spock/Uhura

Rating: T

Type: Romance, angst, humour, smut and all points in between

Warning: None

Disclaimer: I do not own the Star trek the characters or profit in from this writing.

Summary: A collection drabbles written using Spock/Uhura prompt table two.

Au: These drabbles aren't related to each other or any other story so don't be surprised if one seems at odds with another. I've roughly grouped them into Academy era, and post destruction of Vulcan. I used prompt table 2, general prompts, from Spock/Uhura on LJ. Some prompts repeat from "Glimpses" and I have handled them differently this time. Its a bigger prompt table so this one will be in sections. The stories range from amusing to sad to sexy. While they mostly focus on Spock and Nyota there are a few that focus on just one of the pair.

Writing these bit size snippets are still strictly 100words each and that continues to be an interesting challenge.

Beta-ing by the incomparable, generous atana71.

**phaser practice **

"Cadet, please spread your legs wider."

_How could he make a simple request like that sound so salacious with out altering his tone of voice?_ Thought Nyota as she adjusted her stance.

Her back tingled just knowing he was standing right there behind her.

Commander Spock's breath tickled her ear as he spoke, "Now take a firm grip and gently squeeze."

She missed … wildly.

Muttering internal curses on unprincipled manipulative Vulcans Nyota seethed.

They were on the firing range, in full view of a dozen other instructors and cadets and, damn him, Spock knew exactly what he was doing.

**morning run**

Spock runs in the hottest part of the day. Others consider it another of his strange habits. They shrug, "Mad dogs, Englishman and, evidently, Vulcans, go out in the mid day sun".

In the early morning cadets and instructors slog around the track pulling chilled air into their bodies with each inhalation while longing for their first coffee.

In the heat, the track belongs to Spock's. He skin welcomes the firm press of the sun. It's freeing. His feet run over the heat shimmering track on Earth but in his mind he runs over the baked red landscape of Vulcan.

**the student becomes the teacher**

Spock possessed many skills, but theirs is an equitable relationship and at times the student becomes the teacher.

"Gently, remember? You don't know your own strength sometimes."

"Affirmative."

"Remember firm... but not too hard"

"Your directions lack precision."

"Sorry, it's hard to quantify."

"Understood. I have read the literature you provided."

"Some things can't be learned just by reading. You need to get the feel for them."

"Agreed."

"I find it hard to believe there's no Vulcans equivalent, you come from an ingenious race."

"Nonetheless we lacked a grain with the necessary high gluten content to make pasta."

"Unfortunate."

"Indeed."

**sheet **

Nyota often appropriates the bedding. Spock has witnessed how she clutches the covers and turns over slowly pulling them until she is cocooned while he lies uncovered. She maintains he can't blame her for what she does when she's asleep.

Spock discovers if he grips the sheet and pulls firmly, the bedding unwinds and a sleeping Nyota is deposited against him. Seeking warmth, she snuggles closer, wrapping her leg over his, she even works her fingers into the warmth between his legs. He can't hold her responsible for what she does when she's asleep … but he can enjoy it.

**wrong**

"What we have here... is a failure to communicate"

"I fully comprehend…."

"Wrong … you just think you do."

"Your underlying intension was clear."

"Is that so?"

"Indeed."

"If conclusion jumping was an Olympic event you'd win the gold medal for Vulcan."

"Your statement is completely illogical."

"Well so are you. And spare me the eyebrow of incredulity!"

"Nyota it's not logical to …" Nyota's kiss cut Spock off mid protest. At first he remained rigid but slowly he leaned into the kiss.

"A crude attempt at distraction?"

"Just an attempt?

"One precisely targeted at your adversary's known weaknesses."

"Indeed."

**scar**

They lie together tenderly reading the Braille of each other's skin. Spock runs a finger down the length of the jagged scar from Nyota's hip to just above the knee. It's healed well and can not be seen, but he can feel it. Nyota has told him about the childhood vehicle accident that almost killed her. A section of the vehicle's shell sliced deep into her flesh. A matter of seconds or of millimetres was the difference between her lying in his arms and their never meeting. One scar…a reminder that life is precious, precarious and not to be squandered.

**Trapped**

Once Spock was pinned beneath a crashed shuttle's consol for three hours before he was finally rescued. On another occasion he and four crew members spend eleven hours trapped in a cave fighting both hypothermia and attacking predators.

But Commander Spock has never felt more trapped than sitting in this dainty room, on an overstuffed chintz sofa, balancing demitasse of tea on his knee with Nyota's venerable grandmother's gimlet eye fixed on him as she demands, "Young man what are your intensions toward my mjukuu*." He hesitates provoking the querulous demand, "Well? Speak up. Do you love her or not?"

*** **Mjukuu is Swahili for "granddaughter" {thanks atana71}

**stranger**

He was a stranger, this tall, formidable and expressionless man in severe Vulcan dress. From his position on the dais with the Vulcan delegation he coldly surveyed the room packed with diplomats and representatives from all the remaining federation worlds. Lieutenant Nyota Uhura, newly appointed Chief of Communications for the Star Ship Enterprise, didn't know this man. He hadn't lain in her arms in a haze of post-coital bliss, he hadn't made her body sing, hadn't … loved her … no, that isn't her Spock, just a man physically resembling him, so the tears blurring her vision are inherently illogical.

**injured on a mission**

His heart clutches and he struggles for control. Spock accepts this is one thing against which he has no defence. No amount of experience … always shockingly painful … changes his response if Nyota is injured on an away mission.

Spock stands beside the biobed gazing at Nyota sleeping. The phaser fire that nearly killed her has burned a wide livid streak through her hair. She'll be most aggrieved. The thought of her outraged reaction finally cracks his control and he grips her hand desperately as he watches her chest rise and fall, illogically needing visual reassurance that she lives.

**resentment**

Nyota's frustration and resentment are growing. In the background of her mind she feels Spock distant, oblivious and totally absorbed. She snorts. She knows Vulcan couples sometimes lived apart for extended periods, she was unaware they became so enthralled with their own interests they were oblivious of each other … "Parted but never apart" … phewy!. Now Pon Farr actually made sense; if nature didn't force them to mate and breed they'd probably give the whole inconveniently time consuming business a miss. She'd been patient, but Spock was getting an illogical and very human wake up call and right now!

**silk**

The small pile of Nyota's freshly laundered undergarments lie on the bed ready to be put away. It may seem illogical that the sight of these colourful scraps of silk and lace cause desire to purr through Spock and his groin to tighten. It is not so. Simple pavlovian conditioning has created this potent reinforcer. The initial equation is simple, Nyota = pleasure … so much pleasure. Repeated exposure to the stimulus and exquisite response and it's inevitable, generalisation follows. The result, Nyota's underwear , even in the absence of Nyota, illicits pleasure. It is inevitable, animistic and superbly logical.

**homesick**

Sometimes it's a stealthy ambush, Spock slowly becomes aware a place reminds him of … somewhere … as the memory focuses so does the grinding glacier of pain.

At other times it's sudden and startling like being hit by a speeding vehicle. It squeezes the breath from his lungs and the blood from his heart.

He's learned the hard way that the colourful human idiom is true, blood can "freeze" in his veins, he can feel like his "heart has been ripped out".

It's more than mere "homesickness", it's grief for a world lost … and it does not end.

**dreams**

Spock doesn't suggest separate beds despite Vulcan custom.

Nyota dreams vividly and in many languages. He experiences them like the softly lapping of waves on a shore of his mind. He knows she feels his dreams too and is unused to being so exposed ... yet he does not withdraw. Maybe he's become a hedonist. He treasures the soft press of her rounded buttocks against his belly, the gentle brush of her foot against his calf or the weight of her head resting on his shoulder. But he treasures most the unanticipated miracle of seeing himself revealed in her dreams.

**Jealousy**

"It was part of my role as liaison."

"Affirmative."

"If I'd refused he'd loose face. I had to dance with him."

"Understood."

"But he expected more…."

"His... attraction...to you was obvious"

"I'm sorry"

"The fault wasn't yours"

"But you were jealous."

Spock hesitated, then nodded curtly.

Running her hand across the front of his formal uniform Nyota asked, "Do you have any inkling how devastatingly sexy you are when you're jealous?"

Spock looked mildly offended then …interested.

"All possessive Vulcan outrage and intensity? I think you should kiss me now."

He obliged. No further words were spoken for some time.

**classic literature **

Gazing down at Spock, Nyota caresses his head whispering,

"_You held my lotus blossom _

_In your lips and played with the _

_Pistil. "_

Spock lowers Nyota onto the bed entering her fluidly. He is pure controlled passion. They breathe together, gazing into each others eyes. Nyota whispers,

"_I will allow only _

_My lord to possess my sacred _

_Lotus pond, and every night… "_

As Spock moves deep inside her, Nyota closes her eyes and rides the waves of sensation before whispering,

"_You can make blossom in me _

_Flowers of fire."_

Spock murmurs, "I finally comprehend your fascination with classical literature."

AN: The poem is **"Soaring Clouds" HUANG O (1498-1569)**

**parenthood**

They'd never discussed it. They're young with full, demanding, dangerous careers. They live on a starship for goodness sake! Now as they sit silently in the sickbay the doctor's words falling like frozen stones.

They've always know exposure to unknown diseases is a real occupational hazard of space exploration. Now the doctor's words have crystallised a longing neither was even aware of.

Infertile is such a cruel festering word … it means cut off from the future. They'd lost something they'd not even know they wanted, a possibility, a dream, infinitely precious now it seemed denied to them … parenthood.

TBC….

AN: If any of these elicit an emotional response I'd love you to tell… it's only fair when you think about it. Comments help me hone my words and encourages me to try again.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: More Glimpses

Chapter 2 : Second Glimpse

Author: Linstock

Code: Spock/Uhura

Rating: T

Type: Romance, angst, humour, smut and all points in between

Warning: None

Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Trek the characters or profit from this writing.

Summary: A collection drabbles written using the Spock/Uhura prompt table two.

A/N: These drabbles aren't related to each other or any other story so don't be surprised if one seems at odds with another. They were written using the prompt table 2, general prompts, from Spock/Uhura on LJ. Some prompts repeat from "Glimpses" and I have tried to handle them differently this time. The stories range from amusing to sad to sexy. While they mostly focus on Spock and Nyota there are a few that focus on just one of the pair.

As before each drabble is exactly 100 words. Writing these bite-size snippets continues to be an interesting challenge.

Beta-ing by the incomparable SpockLikesCats.

**heartbreak**

"I planned to travel the stars, explore, be first to discover new languages … _love_ wasn't part of the plan."

His precious daughter, she still thinks life can be planned.

"Is it such a bad thing?" he asks.

"A relationship with another officer is a recipe for heartbreak, baba."

"So, protect yourself - leave while you still can."

Nyota looks at the man she's loved fiercely all her life and her heart breaks … a little. She can't follow his advice.

She whispers, "It's already too late to choose ... I love him ... I guess I'll risk the heartbreak."

**truth**

This question had been the cause of conjecture during the girls' late night drinking sessions. The arguments were heated, in more ways than one. Now all speculation would be resolved; the downside was that Nyota couldn't tell, or even hint that she knew. It was a pity; a lovely bottle of Andorian fire liqueur rode on the answer.

He softly spoke her name. She turned slowly and looked. She knew the truth. Nice ... very, very, nice ... she'd carry this knowledge to her grave, but _she_ knew the answer to the burning question: Commander Spock ... boxers or briefs?

**mind meld**

For Nyota sexual intimacy cements their relationship. This isn't the case for Spock. He values their physical relationship but still experiences a sense of separation.

His previous sexual experiences were wholly human. He's wanted a woman's body, felt the bite of lust, but he's never wanted to touch another's mind, the idea was distasteful … too intrusively intimate.

For the first time he yearns … as they brush Nyota's face his fingers tremble. Locating her meld points effortlessly, he experiences an almost magnetic pull through his fingertips. He ... connects ... all separation dissolves … he's completely one with Nyota.

**swept**

As Spock coalesced, re-forming from a cloud of scattered potentials into a living creature, her crystal-bright relief and love pervaded his molecules. He could almost believe _it_ was the force forming him, rearranging him subtly as it did so. In that moment he knew, beyond doubt and hope, he loved Nyota ... completely. Before, his feelings were heavily overlaid with shame, doubt, uncertainty, fear and deeply conflicted loyalties. No more.

But there was barely time for a fleeting caressing glance and the briefest touch of finger tips before he was swept away by the flow of events toward the denouement.

**alternate universe**

Nyota lies in Spock's arms, thinking.

They know an alternate universe exists. The experts say a damaged time stream will seek to correct itself and, in the other universe Spock and she aren't lovers. At first she feels as if their relationship is somehow a cosmic mistake and will be "corrected" out of existence at any moment.

Finally she realises their love is an equally "true" reality; indeed, being just colleagues may be the aberration. They can never know.

She sighs. Spock's soft embrace is warm and present and for now this love is her only reality. It is enough.

**red and green**

In the crowded market place Nyota catches a glimpse of red hair and vivid green. She turns, joy rising, and sees … a red-haired stranger in a vibrant green dress.

A breaking wave of grief crashes over Nyota, crushing the breath from her and tumbling her through vivid disjointed memories … Galia … friend ... almost sister … terror … ships dismembered, dying … horror ... bodies floating like dust motes, suspended in space …

Spock catches Nyota as she falters, leads her into a quiet lane and his strong arms hold her firmly until her sobbing and trembling subside.

**order**

When Spock showered a blast of cool water hit him. Hairs were on the soap. When he left the bathroom something stuck to his foot, part of a feminine hygiene product's wrapper. His slippers were kicked under the bed. The _kassa_ juice bottle was empty. His stylus wasn't where he'd left it.

The door slid open and the cause of the disruption to his perfectly ordered life swept in. Her face clearly showed her pleasure at seeing him. She came to him and raised her face for a kiss as innocently as a child. He obliged.

Perhaps order was overrated.

**teasing**

The breadth and depth of subjects covered was astounding. Nyota listened with interest, then amazement, and finally amusement as the recitation continued.

Note to self, never ask a Vulcan "what's on your mind", he might just tell you.

Finally Nyota propped her head on her hand and recited ...

"And still they gazed

and still the wonder grew

that one small head could hold all he knew.*"

Spock stopped, a slight crease between those delicately slanting brows. "You are teasing?"

"I am indeed."

"Your enquiry was ... rhetorical?"

"It was."

"I apologise."

"Please don't," she replied and kissed him softly.

*The Village Schoolmaster by Oliver Goldsmith

**fight**

Spock could easily hurt her by accident, simply by gripping too hard. He never has. He is truly a gentle man.

Seeing Spock, driven by overwhelming rage and grief, unleash his strength and fight, shakes her to the core. Frozen in shock she watches as the hands she's kissed ... such beautiful, sensitive hands ... hurl Kirk across the room; pin him, and slowly, deliberately begin to crush the life out of him.

Can she ever see Spock the same way again?

He raises his head. She sees pain … horror … vivid in his eyes and knows the answer.

**Non-Verbal Communication (For Valentine's Day)**

Nyota carefully places Spock's hands on her face. He adjusts his fingers.

Nyota allows the complex melange of her admiration, trust, lust and longing to fill her, melt and flow toward Spock. She whispers "I love you."

He draws a startled breath. For the first time he ... understands perfectly... he _feels _Nyota's love. She has practiced this so he would understand. It is his Valentine's Day gift.

A reply rises within him, rich, smooth and dark as melted chocolate. Spock's love coats Nyota's mind.

They kiss deeply, lingering, tasting as they explore the perfect chocolate-rich sensation of their love.

AN: I had hoped to have this ready for Valentine's day, but it was not to be. I left the last one in anyway . I would love to hear you opinion, don't be afraid that you have nothing valuable to say , knowing what worked or failed helps me improve and knowing you read motivates me to write.


	3. Chapter 3: Continuing Glimpses

Title: More Glimpses

Chapter 3: Continuing Glimpses

Author: Linstock

Code: Spock/Uhura

Rating: T

Type: Romance, angst, humour, smut and all points in between

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, the characters, or profit in from this writing.

Summary: A collection of drabbles written using LJ Spock/Uhura group's prompt table two.

A/N: These drabbles aren't related to each other or any other story, so don't be surprised if one seems at odds with another. While they mostly focus on Spock and Nyota, there are a few that focus on just one of the pair.

Each drabble is exactly 100 words.

Beta-ing by the incomparable SpockLikesCats.

**Breakdown**

Any cadets joining Starfleet for status and tailored uniforms receive a rude shock in the first months of training. Smarts get you in but grit gets you through.

Cadet Uhura watches them breakdown…the pretty boys with over inflated egos, the seemingly smart women who think looks are a free pass in life, those used to blustering, flirting, sulking or bulling their way in the world fall before the Star Fleet boot camp like stalks before a scythe. Some shaped up; most shipped out.

Metal is shaped by heat and hammering and Uhura thinks she knows just how that metal feels.

**Forbidden**

Nyota wore a richly patterned loose shift, complicated sandals and talked vivaciously to friends. Not that Spock noticed.

Spock wore a long sleaved rich brown tunic over loose trousers and talked quietly and earnestly to his companions. Not that Nyota was looking.

He only noticed in passing the delicate curve of her neck and the perfection of her pinnae.

She fleeting noticed how the brown of the tunic emphasized the rich colour of his eyes and his precise, delicate, expressive hand gestures.

She was a cadet, he an officer and they couldn't be at a party together; it was forbidden.

**Danger**

Once, he'd been assaulted by students at his school; then, at the age of twelve, he'd been taken hostage when accompanying his parents on a diplomatic mission. As a Starfleet officer he'd been injured twice on active duty.

Commander Spock believed he understood danger and how to respond. He was in control of his emotions, highly skilled, tempered by experience, able to assess risk, plan and take decisive action.

So he thought … until he day he met Cadet Nyota Uhura and realised danger took many forms and he had only now encountered one against which he had no defences.

**Fraternization**

They went to great lengths to avoid any appearance fraternisation. Nyota saw the funny side of some incidents…now…although at the time they'd seemed far from amusing.

There was the time Spock spent two hours standing in her bathroom as Nyota consoled a sobbing Gaila dealing with yet another complicated inter-species misunderstanding.

Or the unforgettable occasion when a brazen first year barged into Spock's supposedly locked office and flirted outrageously with a discombobulated Spock while she sat at her desk, the perfect professional aid...sans panties…in the grip of excruciatingly intense sexual frustration due to coitus-interruptus.

She could smile now but then…

**Discretion**

On the Enterprise, as on any starship, overhearing other people's conversations is inevitable. On duty everyone speaks Standard. But when off duty, crew members speak a variety of languages. Sometimes they speak in their mother tongue, but many avoid the Lingua Franca in an attempt to ensure privacy.

Lieutenant Uhura's problem is unique. She has exquisite aural sensitivity and speaks every language known to the Enterprise crew. As a result she hears much more than she wants to, and, unfortunately, understands what she hears. To cope she either makes herself selectively deaf, or the soul of discretion … often both.

**Quiet Night on the Bridge **

Uhura treasures these times. The bridge lights are dim; the minimal command crew works quietly and efficiently, and underfoot she feels the slight vibration from the warp drive, as familiar as her heartbeat.

The distant voices of the stars undulate gently, as soothing as the lapping of placid waves on bare skin. In these moments Uhura feels she expands, the ship is her skin and the sensors, her ears … her contact with space feels visceral and alive.

In their quarters her lover slumbers and perhaps dreams as Uhura stands her watch.

It is a quiet night on the bridge.

**Ancient Ruins**

It takes Nyota's breath away.

In front of her lies a deep gash in the ground. Clinging to the steep ravine walls is an immense, ruined, but eerily beautiful city. Nothing is known of the civilization that lived, thrived, then died here. All that remains are these ancient ruins … unique in the known universe.

As she stands transfixed, Spock reaches over and clasps her hand in his. In a few minutes the bustling research teams will arrive and start unlocking ancient mysteries, but for now Spock and Nyota simply stand, hand in hand, marvelling at the sight before them.

**Photo**

It is the first time Spock has seen these photos of his human ancestors. As he gently turns the worn album's pages, he stops, confronted by a close-up of a smiling, dark-eyed woman; his breath catches. She's uncannily like his mother – no – his mother was like this ancestor.

Spock connects, with a jolt – he feels the pull of a chain of history stretching back through generations. He perceives this not as a scientist, but as a man, and for the first time he has the desire to forge his own link in this chain, the one stretching into the future.

**Practice**

"It's rarely perfect the first time! Any skill requires practice."

"Indeed."

"It wasn't too bad, for a first attempt."  
>"That comment isn't helpful."<p>

"You don't need to feel…"

"I'm Vulcan; I don't f..."

"Tell someone who falls for that 'Vulcan's don't feel' line, but don't try it on me. You're disappointed."

"…"

"…"

"I prepared thoroughly."

"I've no doubt, but we both know physical skills need practice."

"Indeed."

"So … how about trying again? Oh, don't tell me you afraid!"

"Are you deliberately endeavouring to provoke on emotional responce?"

"_Moi?_"

"…"

"Come on, Spock, just get back on the bicycle."

**Whisper**

A whisper from a lover is the tickle of warm breath against an ear and the illicit thrill of private communication.

How much more intimate is Spock's lover's whisper in my mind?

It's more sensation than speech, redolent with secret desires, his whisper washes over me, raising goose bumps, leaving my skin yearning, my breath caught in my throat and every cell craving. When he whispers my whole body answers his unheard voice.

The intensity of this deeply alien touch is unsurpassed. I ache. I need.

The truth is when Spock whispers to me through our bond I am undone.

**Blue***

Vulcan's palette is scorching reds, burnt umber, opulent ochre, chromium yellows and stark whites tempered with deep complex browns and fathomless purples. The seas are green, deep and opalescent and the sky has a yellowish cast.

The veins beneath Vulcan skin trace lines of olive and jade.

Vulcan eyes perceive far into ultraviolet and infrared spectrums but perhaps Nature saw no need to perceive what does not exist…and on Vulcan there is no blue.

Logically, they understand it exists but to a Vulcan "blue" is a scientific concept not a colour.

Unique amongst his kinsmen Spock's human eyes perceive blue.

* The psudo-science in this drabble has some basis in fact. See www dot livescience dot com bslash 21275-color-red-blue-scientists dot html. And in historical mystery clarkesworldmagazine dot com bslask hoffman_01_13.

Author's note: This is a shameless appeal for comments. I'd love to know if any phrases caught your eye or anything made you smile. Do you have a favourite? Comments are how SpockLIkesCats and I are "paid" and provide the motivation to finish the last batch.


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